


Blood in the Waste

by Rosey Writes (ithefantasticfanatic)



Series: Blood in the Waste [1]
Category: Blood in the Waste, Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Also Johnny is not what ya'll think he is, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Western, Badass Omegas, Bandits & Outlaws, Beta/Beta, Cock Rings, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Crimes & Criminals, Crossdressing, Daddy Issues, Future Fic, Like space western aesthetic but only one planet and nobody knows what they're doing, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Murder Husbands, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega/Omega, Oral Sex, Post-Apocalypse, Riding Crops, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Smut, Stalking, Though really it's just like a whole new world, Western, Will add the kinks and I go but expect at the minimum, and all between, so so much smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithefantasticfanatic/pseuds/Rosey%20Writes
Summary: No one knows the exact amount of time has passed since World War 5 has passed, but, it'd been a couple hundred years at least. Now, with most of the world a desert, with only little towns for shelter in the endless waste between Oasi, there was plenty of space for some bandits to roam the desert dunes.Eliot Swift, an Omega from the Burrows, decided he had enough bowing to the whims of Alphas, donned his black hat and became an outlaw. Soon joined by resident rich boy Omega, Fiyero Deamorte, with some strange ties to Haven, becoming the outlaw duo Fire and Brimstone.All seemed to be going well, until two desert wolves, the Alpha sons of the leader of the sheriff force of the wastelands, come after them.From Chinese pirate queens, to robot horse love triangles, join us on a journey across the new world.--Now has its own Wikia: https://blood-in-the-waste.wikia.com/wiki/Blood_in_the_Waste_WikiRelated Tumblr with extra lore bits, including a full, to scale map: https://rosey-writes.tumblr.com/





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wanted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659618) by [AestheticAcoustic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AestheticAcoustic/pseuds/AestheticAcoustic). 



The air was thick. Dusty, dry, sand kicked up from Bambi’s hooves, leaving thick dents in the mounds scattering the cracked pavement.

The streets were bare, not a soul in sight from the midday sun beaming down on his back, black coat hanging tight on his shoulders, hat brimmed down to shield his eyes from the light. All that could be made out was the glint of them, bandana, tied tight around his throat, a silhouette in the dunes, painted like a shadow, enveloped in the cloud of it as the wind blew out the moment he pulled the doors wide, sign creaking as it swung overhead.

_Welcome to the Alpha House._

The crowd, before bustling, was now silent, nothing heard but the click of black boots as he made his way across the bar. Men and women in worn jackets and pants with enough patches to mend a circus sat round beer barrel tables, dirt, crumbling red, worn down everything out here without care, but his blacks stayed clean as oil, not a flicker of the bleaching rays on the leather.

The silence didn’t lift when he sat at the bar. Nervous glances turned to whispers, as he stared blank ahead at the bartender, who had the same stare right back. The boys and girls between the tables, half undressed, most near topless but still in their puffed out dresses or too slim shorts, gossiped between them, giving him looks up and down, before, in a low, even tone, he spoke.

“Whiskey.”

That seemingly broke the spell. Within moments, the bar was up in laughter, ringing off the parched wood walls, smirks and sneers on sunburned faces, before the bartender, a tall man with scars from chest to cheek grinned, leaning forward. “Sorry, doll, but we don’t serve your kind here, ‘less you wanna try one of the dresses in the back.”

He kept his eyes forward. “Whiskey.”

More laughter, jeers, as a group to the right jostled one of their friends, an equally tall woman, hair bleached blonde by endless days in the sun, slid beside him, and a brunette man took the stool to his other side. “He would like mighty pretty in a dress.” The brunette grinned, predatory teeth glinting. “Better without.” He laughed, nudging his hip. “What’s your name, I’ll help you track your owner.”

“Whiskey.”

“I said your name-”

“ _Whiskey_.”

“You know what kind of place this is, right, doll?” The woman tossed her arm around his shoulders. “This’s an Alpha House.”

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ wandering ‘round the dunes all alone, anyway?” The man moved his hand down, slowly. “Who knows what could happen to a little omega in the Waste all alone?”

“Nothin’, if the Alphas keep their hands off me.” His voice was now a low hiss. “And I want my whiskey.”

“And I told you.” The bartender poured a glass for the Alphas on his right and left. “We don’t serve your kind, who knows what the hard stuff’ll do to you.”

His breathing stayed steady. “Alright. I was hoping to do this after my drink.” His head tilted up. “You won’t give me whiskey- then I want some cash for the bar next door.”

“…boy, what’re you saying?” The bartender’s eyes narrowed. “You heard the lady, either suit up or get out.”

He went to stand. “I said,” his voice dropped to a low drawl. “Give me. All. Your fucking. Cash.”

“This one’s a bit thick in the head.” The woman tugged a curly black strand from under the hat, watching the kink snap back into place. “Don’t bother me, less work.”

“Stubborn streak though.” The brunette put his arm across the table, leaning in. “Someone’s gonna have to break him in. And I’d be happy to-”

The knife, black as coal, moved through his fingers like air, sticking right between the second and third knuckle, pinning the hand to the table it lie.

That got the bar’s attention. Within moments, the room was filled with growls, harsh, as the tender slammed his fists on the table. “That’s it, out.”

He cracked his neck. “Give me the money and I’d be happy to.”

“That’s it, kiddie gloves commin’ off. Someone needs to beat some respect into you, boy.” The tender cracked his knuckles, going for a swing, when he stopped, sniffing the air. “…what in tarnat-”

Fire. Smoke filled the room, coating the tan floors black, as men coughed and wheezed, clutching their throats. Flames, tall and bright, bloomed at the exit. One of the women tried for a window, but was struck down with a black knife to the skull, thrown without a blink, without a break in eye-lock with the tender. “The money, or this place burns.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll be in here too, ya’ know.”

He hummed. “I’m used to hellfire, sir, are you?”

“Fuck no, you don’t waltz in here and order us around, right Alphas!” The woman received a roar of agreement, as she yanked the blade from the bleeding brunette hand. “Let’s teach ‘im some respect!”

Finally.

The woman charged, and with nothing but a quirk of the lips and a flick of his finger, the blade in her hand turned, sliding from her hand right across her throat, forcing her to her knees as blood trickled down her cotton tee and onto the red stained wood.

“So,” he said, as the blade flew right back to his hand, sliding into his sleeve where it belonged. “You gonna give me the cash?”

Silence. A much different silence than before. The tender, red in the face, simmering in anger as he shoved the register’s contents into a burlap sack, grit his teeth to the point of an audible pop. The sack was in his hand a moment later, as he walked to the door, not sparing the gawkers another look, until he heard one voice, the tenders voice, shout from the back.

“What demon are you?”

A beat. Silence. Smile. “Name’s Swift. But you all, call me Brimstone.” With flick of his hand, a hole formed in the center of the wall of fire, that he easily stepped through.

It shut behind him, sewed like a gash wound as he tossed the sack over his shoulder.

And there he was, his fire, in his ruffled dress, thin and bright as the flame flickering at his feet. He pulled him close, breath dancing on his lips, as pale hand brushed black cloth, that white grin taunting. “What’d I tell you about having all the fun?”

“Business first.” With a quick kiss, he tied his loot to Bambi, the horse neighing at the weight, before his arm wrapped around his lover’s waist. “How ‘bout I make it up to you.”

“You mean it?”

“Not like I could stop you if I wanted to.”

His fire, his red, his rose, laughed as he pecked his cheek, eyes alight as he stepped close to the careful flame still held at the door. With a simple blow, it spread, catching to the parched wood and spreading like greek fire as his flame laughed, danced and twirled among his kin, to the song of dying chokes.

He merely smiled. “Happy anniversary, my love.”


	2. Welcome to East Port

Being an Omega was hard. Really fucking hard. You were attacked from all fronts, from highers in the pecking order trying to push you down, and the lowers trying to keep you there to stop you from stirring up shit and making things even worse.

Being an Omega in regular circumstances, even in the most liberal of Oasi was hard.

But being an Omega Outlaw? That was a new level of danger, and Eliot savored every moment of it.

It was hard to believe how far he’d come in a handful of years, going from the stumbling, stuttering fool, baring his neck the moment an Alpha growled to the hunter of the Waste. But he’d grown smarter, stronger now, strong enough to hold his own.

But, he didn’t have to. “You promised you’d get me that collar,” Fiyero whined, holding onto his arm. Though he’d never admit it, he found it almost funny how Fiyero clung to him, whimpered on his shoulder like a begging child despite being a full head taller than him.

In all fairness, he didn’t know anyone who wasn’t at least a head taller than him.

“It takes time to get it here, Fi.” Eliot kept his hand wrapped tight around Bambi’s reign. She was a good horse, entirely cybernetic, dark brown streaks under the silver chrome, solar powered, and folded into a cube for easy storage with the push of a button. Sweetest thing. “We ordered the collar, it’ll be ready when it’s ready.”

“But I want it now!”

“Fiyero, it’s in China, what do you want me to do, drill through the earth to get it?” Oh no. That was a mistake.

“Really? Please, please, please.” God, Fiyero’s eyes were what always got him, what got him the first time he saw them, wide and green and wild, burning with greek fire underneath, someone putting an emerald to flame, intensity only matched by the red of his hair. “I’ll give you that massage you like~”

“I can’t bend time and spa- wait, really? With the oils and everything?”

“Mhm!”

“…I’ll drop by Lin, see what I can do.”

“You’re the best.” Leaning in, Fiyero pecked his cheek and pat it. “I’m gonna go for a…walk-” translate, pickpocketing and sex- “meet you at the fountain in an hour?”

“Alright, be careful.” He sighed, grabbing his wrist just before he went. “And no arson.”

“Of course not! What do you take me for, an addict?”

The brothel was going to be up in flames by noon.

Shaking his head, he tugged Bambi’s reigns and off down the street they walked. Sure, he could fold her up, but she always liked being out.

East Port was a big, straddling the line between Oasis and Town. One of the few places left on what little water hadn’t blown the hell, it was the best, and practically only, way to get anything from the East. And, because it was run by the East, they followed Eastern law.

So as long as you stayed away from the tourist part of East Port, you didn’t have to worry too much about Alpha dickery.

Finally, he reached the spot, sign in scribbled mandarin swinging overhead, written in small characters underneath the words _Heron Nest: East Port_. Shoulders relaxing, he looked up to Bambi, going to his toes to kiss her between the eyes. “Sorry, girl, I’ll change you back soon, alright?”

She whined.

“Come on, don’t do this to me. I have to, or you’ll get stolen by some stupid heavy Alpha.”

With a loud huff, she nuzzled his side.

“No, you can’t come in.” He scratched behind her ears. “I won’t even be in five minutes.”

Looking away, she stomped, but stayed still as he pressed the button on her coat, letting her fold up into a small figurine, perfectly still in his hand. God, he forgets she’s a robot sometimes. Then again, she was more human than most of the people he knew, though, that didn’t mean much.

Finally, he pushed open the door, goosebumps rising from the gush of cold. Air conditioning. It was a luxury few had out in the Waste, hell, one few in the Oasi had, but he wouldn’t expect any less from his favorite pirate queen.

Speaking of which-

“Hai, Lin.”

There she was, in full 5’4 glory, black hair tucked into her three blossom cap, gold hoops swinging down from her ears, dress scraping the top of her knee-high black boots, pinched at the hip. It looked nice and all, but he knew every aspect of that outfit was made for one purpose; to kill.

Her smiled faded to narrowed eyes in a flash, hopping from her perch on the countertop. “Will you ever not make that pun?”

He smiled. “It’s too easy not to.”

“ _Hello_ , Swift.” Sighing, she leaned across the counter, eyes narrowed. “Give me a reason I shouldn’t kick you out ‘fore the sheriff comes sniffing.”

“The sheriff wouldn’t come in here and you know it.” He leaned on the opposite side of the counter, glancing at that small hooked nose, broken from so many battles, from the corner of his eye. “East Port even got one?”

“Not normally, no.” She sighed, blowing one of the few strands to escape the bun tucked into the cap. “But we’ve got some wolves visiting from Stark.”

“Stark?” It was his turn for his eyes to narrow. “What’re Starkmen doing here?”

“Starkweathers, actually.”

Fuck. He felt his blood go cold, as he looked to the door. “ _Shit_.”

“Don’t think they’re here for you.” She shrugged, as she reached under the counter. “You gonna to buy something or what?”

The shop was filled to the brim with luxuries large and small, almost all of them in the form of scents, spices and water. Most of which were damn near impossible to find outside of Haven in the West, but supposedly were in high supply in the East, thanks to what used to be Australia still having trees. Not that he’d know for sure, he’d never been there, rumors were dodgy at best, and Lin took every opportunity to fuck with him possible.

“Wanted to see if I could…expedite, that order I sent, for that collar.”

“…the fuck you want me to do? It’s not even scheduled to ship til next month.”

“For an old friend?”

“For a dead dog.”

Of course. “Come on, I’m just asking when you take back the Bitterbird, you bring along a tiny extra box of cargo.”

“Westerns, think everything’s about you.” Sighing, she pulled out a small black notebook, finger moving across the page. “Heading by Valoria anytime soon?”

“Can be.” It’d be a hell of a detour. They were going to stay at East Port for a couple days, hit Compita before making their way up to La Vida for some sex, cards, and a fuckload of alcohol. Valoria was in the exact opposite direction. “For what?”

“Some fleabags thought It’d be funny to harass some of my flock.” Her eyes were stormy beneath the brown, he could see the black waves crashing against shore. Someone was getting fucked up. “Said they were ‘tempting the officers’ or some bullshit, they were an Omega Siege, kept them for days before they snuck out. I’d send one of mine, but most of my flock are back at Xīgǎng-” from the little bit of Mandarin he’d learned, it just meant West Port, the East version of East Port…if that made sense. Fuck, why couldn’t they have split the world North/South with that trea- actually, last time they did that things didn’t work out great for his people, so, East/West was probably fine. Anyway- “loading the new shipment. Few that aren’t are dealing with some Sydney ships that got cocky and attacked Blackbird.”

Eliot had no idea what ship Blackbird was, but since all of the Heron Fleet’s boats were named after birds, he was just going to assume it was one of them.

“What about you? You could take some Alphas on in a second.”

“Someone’s got to run the business.” She gestured to the ‘nest’. They had one in a bunch of major ports, and an entire port to themselves on the East side of the world, uncreatively called Heron’s Nest. Basically warehouses, where, if you knew what you were getting into, you could buy stuff without paying the middleman fee they charge at those kitschy ‘Asian Ware’ shops that haven’t caught on to the fact ‘Asia’ isn’t even half of the East anymore, it’s got in parts of- what used to be- Africa, Australia, India. They got everything east of around what used to be Turkey. Europe would’ve been a good marking point, but, Europe was now underwater so that didn’t help much.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “So, what’s your price, exactly? Track the dogs who did it?”

“No. Burn down the sheriff’s office, teach them a lesson.”

Scoffing, he crossed his arms. “That’s an awful lot of work for some speed shipping.”

“I’ll throw in a rose charm when it comes in.”

It wasn’t too far a ride, only half a day. Maybe help Fiyero get some arson out of his system before he’s covered in flammable alcohol…yeah. Best do that.

“I swear.” He reached out his hand. “That boy’ll be the end of me.”

She laughed, shaking it in a firm grip. “It’s your anniversary, isn’t it?”

“Yep, another whole year he hasn’t burned me alive.”

“Yay for small miracles.” Reaching into the back cabinet she pulled out a long, blood-red bottle of chardonnay. “Here, on the house.”

“…really?”

“No. But I’ll give you a discount; 3 Red.”

Of course. Grumbling, he pulled the poker chips from his pocket. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?”

“I’d be offended, but you’re one all the time.”

Literally anyone else that would have earned a knife to the throat. But, with Lin, he knew it was just a joke. Not that he was scared of her or anything…beyond reasonable levels. As reasonable as someone one can be when the person in front of them’s weapon of choice was talons. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the neck of the bottle. “Keep on squaking, birdie. See if that gets a little dove under your-” He artfully dodged under the thrown gemstone.

“That was rude and you know it.”

“Yeah. Have you met me?”

“You little…wait.” Her head perked up. “Do you smell that?”

“What?”

“Smoke.”

Their eyes locked. And in that moment, two minds became one, in a flurried shout. “ _Fiyero_!”


	3. Beach Bunny

“You do know this is an actual job, not a vacation, right?” **  
**

“Pfft, please.” With a yawn, he kicked his feet up on the beach chair, sinking back in his own.  “These guys are ghosts and you know it.”

“They were spotted in Crossca  _yesterday_.”

“Just cause an Alpha House was burned down doesn’t mean it was them.”

“They burned  _Fire and Brimstone_  into the walls.”

Jason merely shrugged, tugging down his sunglasses.  “Then I’m taking my vacation days.”

“Jaso-“

“Dude.” He looked up at him, sky blue eyes narrowing. They both had them, same blonde hair, blue eyes, tan skin and height. Benefits of twinhood. “Chill. We’re on East Port, live a little.” He tipped down his glasses, whistling as a tall-for-beta woman passed.

Jonathan huffed above him. “You need to grow up.”

“You need to get laid.” He pat his brother on the back. “You wanna work, go work. I’m gonna do some…recon.”

“You’re useless.” He stomped away.

Ah, much better. Taking a sip of his drink, he stretched in the sun. It wasn’t technically a lie. He could possibly find their guys. Rumor had it Fire and Brimstone, plague of the Waste, were actually Omegas. The Wolves of the West, sheriffs for anything west of the treaty line, had been tracking them for about a year. Hard to do when anyone who saw them weren’t left alive.

A couple of the ones who claim they did though, had to be lying through their asses. Two omegas, one five foot, dark skin, and the other a five six ‘firebender’.  _Please_. Speaking of red hair, though…

 _Fuck_. If this was a mirage, he let him dehydrate.

A whistle passed his lips as he tipped down his sunglasses.  _Damn_. There was, quite possibly, the hottest Omega he’d ever seen. Little thing, not too little though, with the tightest ass, which he got a nice view of thanks to those too-tight swim shorts, complete with the bunnytail required for all the Lucky Rabbit’s little bunnies. Cute thing must be on break, though, lounging back in his chair, eyes closed behind his own sunglasses as he sucked the pink popsicle dripping between his lips.

“Woof,” he smirked under his breath. Time for this wolf to grab a little snack.

Stretching his arms above his head, he stood, stalking over to his prey, standing straight to show off the abbs he spent way too much time working on instead of actual, you know, work, eyes glancing to the popsicle. “Hungry, Bunny?” He leaned his arm on the bark of the palm tree, casting his shadow across the body below.

The Omega gave a slight scoff, lowering his own sunglasses to look him up and down. “Depends on how big a carrot we are talking here.”

 _Fuck_. A Haven accent to boot? He may just have to collar this one. “Promise you won’t find a better bite this side of the Waste.”

Bunny Boy bit his lip, ruby red from the icy pop. “Only the Waste? Doesn’t seem too impressive.”

Shit. That line always worked. “I’m a Starkweather, baby; world’s my Waste.”

That seemed to peak his interest, as he took a long suck from base to tip, nimble tongue catching a drip peaking at the tip. “Law boy, hm? Got your cuffs on you?”

“You know it, baby.”

“Guess I wouldn’t want to be caught resisting arrest, then.” Jason didn’t even see him stand, all he knew was one moment he was lying there, and the next there was a harsh grip on his wrist and a hot breath in his ear, whispering, “Walk me to my cell, sir.”

 _Fuck yes._  “Wouldn’t want ya’ hoppin’ off now.” Jason grinned, all barred teeth and sharpened canines, like all the Wolves of the West had, you got them sharpened when you joined. He slid his hand round the other’s throat. “Got a name, bunny boy?”

“Fi. And you, Wolfy?”

“Jason. Starkweather, Jason.”

“Well, Jacey,” Fi purred, tracing his finger across his chest. “You’re in luck. You just won a turn in the VIP entrance.”

He really did hit the jackpot today.

The walk to the beachside cabin was a blur, such one he didn’t question why they were in one and not in the main building. The moment the door swung open, he slammed Fi back against it, growling, low in his throat. It was then the scent hit him, roses, blood and  _fire_. Everything about the boy seemed bathed in it, like it was etched into his skin. He fucking loved it.

His hand curled in the red, tugging hard as their lips crashed, earning a low purr in the other’s throat. “God, Jason-”

He tightened the hand around his neck. “Call me Alpha.”

He felt that thin little throat swallow, he could wrap his hand around the entire thing and  _squeeze_. “Al-Alpha-”

“Better.” He spun the boy around, bent him over the rosewood desk, knocking off whips and chains in the process, pinning him by the throat, other hand squeezed tight on his ass. “Now say what you are.”

He could see those dazed over eyes in the wall mirror, emerald swallowed by pupils blown wide. “O-Omega-”

He slapped his ass, hard. “I said, what  _are you_?”

Fi’s breath heaved as he arched his back. “Bitch, I’m a bitch.”

“Good. You know you’re a fucking bitch.” The hand on Fi’s throat moved to the nape of his neck, grinding it into the wood. “Because I’m gonna’ fuck you like one.”

“Please oh, god,  _please, please_ , now-”

He growled, low in his throat, biting his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. “I give the orders, got it?”

He got a desperate whine in return.

“Good. You’re getting it.” He ground his hips against him. “I am going to let you go, now. You will get on your knees, hands behind your back like a good little bunny, understood?”

Fi nodded.

“I  _said_ , do you understand?” He thrust his hips forward, earning a gasp.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Then do it.” He released his grip, stepping back. A small bit of drool pooled at the corner of Fi’s lips as he dropped to his knees, looking up through flittering lashes, panting.

“You really are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” He grabbed the other’s chin, forcing it up so he could view the long pale expanse of skin. “Wonder if I’ll even fit.”

Pulling his cuffs from his back pocket- wasn’t lying when he said he carried everywhere- he dropped his shorts, licking his lips seeing his cock spring up, smearing a strip of precome across Fi’s cheek as he cuffed his hands behind his back, sliding his finger across rosey lips before slipping one inside. “Open up.”

With that, he pried open his mouth and shoved himself inside.

There were little whimpers bellow him, moans as Fi tried to push himself deeper but couldn’t thanks to his hands locked behind him. It was hot, fiery, boiling hot, hotter than he’d ever felt inside someone,  _fuck_ , hot and tight, he grabbed the other by the head with two hands and fucked himself forward, deeper into the narrow throat. He was panting now, face flushed, as he looked down.

God damn it, he was hot, so  _fucking hot_ , his cheeks fire red, a slight bulge in his throat from the cock stuffed in it, eyes shut in fucking bliss. Everything about him was _hot hot hot hot_ -

“Come on,” he growled, he usually didn’t growl this much but it felt like second nature right now, holding his head tight as he fucked it harder and faster. “That’s it, fucking burn me bitch.” Fi’s scent was staining the air around him, clogging it like smoke, thick and  _choking_ him, as Fi swallowed hard around him, sucking him deeper with those little whines that just weren’t fair.

Fuck, he was going to come already. No, no he wasn’t letting him off that easy. One hand still white-knuckled in Fi’s hair, he pulled out, cock slapping against his cheek in the process as he panted, looking up desperate and drooling. “Alp-”

“Shut it.” He wasn’t in control of his movements as he flipped Fi onto his elbows and knees, unlocking the cuffs. “You in heat?”

“No, wh- oh,  _fuck_ , fuck,  _yes_ -”

Hot. Hot hot heat fire,  _heat_ , tight, it enveloped him hard. His entrance was slick from spit, that little tail must’ve been some sort of plug because the moment he’d shoved those little shorts down and thrust inside it welcomed him like he was the fucking groom. He growled again, biting his other shoulder as he kept him bent on his knees, hips thrusting as he heard the slap of balls on skin, breath coming in out in heavy grunts.

Fi’s cock swung below them, jolting from every thrust, and Jason forced his head down in submission again, ass up as he spanked it hard. “ _Mine_ , you get it,  _mine_.”

He couldn’t give a damn when Fi didn’t respond, not this time, as he rocked hard into him, broad chest covering that slim figure as he bit down hard on the matching shoulder. “Mine, you fucking bitch.”

Fi gave one, finally, hiccuping gasp as he screamed out, coming hard on the wood bellow them, Jason soon after, buried deep inside.

As Fi painted bellow him, eyes heavy, Jason finally pulled out, watching his come drip between the creamy thighs, giving one last playful smack. Fi whined, falling to lay on his stomach. “That was…”

“Great? Yeah, no one fucks like a wolf.”

“Mmhmm…” Fi’s eyes were shutting slowly, legs still spread. Hm, it was tempting, one more go…no…no, not while he was asleep. Wait. Was he really sleeping? Yeah, he could hear the slow heavy breaths. He was asleep.

Shaking his head, he scooped up the little bunny, letting his head loll against his chest. This one really was a cute one…sighing, he laid him into the bed- he’d been a little busy before to even notice there was one- glancing out the window. Jonathan probably wouldn’t be expecting him for a while longer, and he was pretty wiped, the sound of the waves crashing drifting through the open windows. Yeah, maybe he could catch one quick nap…

Yawning, he slid into bed next to his bunny, nuzzling his neck, taking in a deep breath of that scent. Maybe he should collar him after all. His father was going to start getting antsy if he didn’t with  _somebody_ soon, and since this guy was a Havener, he probably wouldn’t object too much if Jason had to fill his…needs, while out on the road.

Smiling, he cuddled his bunny close as he drifted off to sleep, blissfully unaware when he’d wake up, he’d be chained to a bed on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you liked today's chapter. It was my first time writing traditional penetration porn actually, so, please, rip it apart, I need all the criticism I can get. I hope you guys like it!


	4. Beds are Burning

“Warm…” Jason nuzzled into the heat of the bed, shoulders relaxed, eyes still shut. It was decided. If he was going to be stuck collaring someone, it was going to be this little cutie, he’d never been so warm and comfy in his life. **  
**

Today was going to be a good day, he could tell. Yawning, he cracked his neck, eyes fluttering open, watching the soft sunlight pour through the window. He couldn’t have been out long, since the sun was still up, even if the light was turning to the twinkling twilight. He went to stretch, tugging his arm, when he realized.

It was chained down.

“…uh…Fi…” his voice was careful. Where was he anyway? He wasn’t in the bed. “Uh, I’m all up for another round, just, a little warning maybe?”

Quiet.

“Hey? Fi?”

No response. Dead freaking silence, except for a faint crackling bellow him. Wait. Why was the room so warm? And the scent of smoke was so much thicker now, it was starting to choke him. Seriously, what the-

That was when he saw the flames creep to the cabinet, consuming it cherry red.

“Fuck!”

The room was on fire. He was chained. To a room on fire. Flame licked at the walls, as he started to tug at the chain keeping his wrist locked to the bedpost. On the ceiling he could see, etched in char, _Love, Fire._

He was pretty sure now if he checked his wallet it’d be empty. He’s also pretty sure he couldn’t give less of a shit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,  _fuck_.” Maybe he was panicking, badly, now. He tugged harder, coughing from the stifling smoke. The windows were closed now, locked probably. The air was turning a charcoal black, he was pretty sure soon he wouldn’t be able to see the door.

Alright. Keep your head, Starkweather, you’ve dealt with worse shit than this. Taking a deep breath- not his best idea, as now he was  _hacking_ \- he twisted around, hissing at the pain in his arm. The bed was made of wood, the chain locked to a rather thin branch of the headboard. So, he planted his foot right below it, gripping the chain with both wrists, and  _tugged_ until he heard a glorious, glorious snap.

Thank the fucking lord.

Scrambling off the bed, he hissed as his naked ass fell right to the simmering floor. With an almost howl he managed to yank himself back up, bolting for the door, only to find it locked, fixed with one harsh kick, as he toppled into the sand.

The entire beach was staring at him now, customers in shock and horror, the staff was bored, resigned looks as they whispered amongst each other. “ _Rosie must’ve liked this one_ ,” he heard from the tall girl from the right. “ _He let this one live._ ”

 _Let, huh._ Jason’s eyes were narrowed as came to his feet. Jonathan was staring in horror, an ice cream cone in each hand, but Jason didn’t pay attention to that. No, all he cared about was the Bunny in bright red, and Deer in dark black watching from atop a horse Jason promised that moment would be scrap by the end of the day.

* * *

Well, on the bright side, this sure as hell was a bigger statement than some candles.

“…I asked for one thing, Fiyero.  _One thing_.”

“I know but…it was too romantic not to.”

Alright, he could admit, there was at least some romance to it. The flames were in the shape of a heart as they ate away at the wood, brimstone blocks had been placed around the outside in other little hearts as well, filling the beach with the scent of sulfur. The sunset behind it, casting a purple light on the brilliant orange glow. And it was warm…

Sighing, he went to wind his arm around Fiyero’s waist, but Fiyero beat him to it, tugging him onto a bench, winding his own arm around Eliot’s waist and pulling him against his side so Eliot’s head lolled onto his shoulder. Figures, the moment Fiyero’s flaring, Fiyero decides to get in the ‘Alpha’ spirit. And he knew from experience, Fiyero was very much able to get into the Alpha spirit. He never went into much explanation about how he could change his scent, didn’t do it often so Eliot didn’t pry, but, when Fiyero wanted to, he didn’t need to act Alpha.

For now though, this wasn’t acting Alpha actually. Maybe he just thought it was Eliot’s turn to be held.

And maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Eliot snuggled against his side, listening to Fiyero’s strong heartbeat as he leaned his head against his neck, shoulders relaxing. “Lin got us some new wine from Sydney, if you wanna reach into my bag.”

“Later.” Eliot’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt nimble fingers card through his hair. “You’re too cute without your hat.”

“Shut up,” he whined, without a hint of malice. “I’m dangerous.”

Fiyero giggled, pressing soft lips to his forehead. “Of course you are, my big bad outlaw.”

“Ha, ha,  _Rosie_.” He placed a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck.

That’s how the next half an hour went. Watching the flames slowly close in, waiting for the screams to erupt. And they did, eventually. He couldn’t help but laugh as he heard the crashing from the cabin. However, what he wasn’t as expecting, was Jason. _Fucking. Starkweather_ to fall out, butt naked. And he wasn’t expecting Jonathan Starkweather to run up next to him to pull from the sand.

Mission abort.

“ _Fuck_!” Eliot instantly brought out Bambi, who barely got her footing before Eliot hopped onto her, knocking the side of the horse and she neighed loud, as Eliot yanked Fiyero up by the wrist onto the moving horse.

“Eli!” Fiyero shouted, wrapping his arms tight around him. “What are you doing?!”

“That’s Jason fucking Starkweather, Fiyero!”

“Yeah, he’s a Starkweather, don’t you hate those guys?”

The bullet whizzed right by their ears, popping in front of them in a sparkle of shocks.

“ _Yes._  And they hate me!”

Jason Starkweather, he knew about that dick and his brother more than well enough. Scourges of the west they were, especially Jason. A thirsty dog who only knew how to think with one of his heads. But sadly the guy was good with a revolver, and that revolver was trained on them.

He only spared himself one glance back. Both of them were on their own horses, sleek whites with combed metallic manes, though he couldn’t deny how hilarious it was to see the guy who’d been crowned the best cop in the West riding around with his dick flopping out.

“Come on girl,” he muttered under his breath to Bambi, who neighed louder, as her feet grew to a blur. The wind whipped his face, sending shocks of cold down his spine. The weather had shifted for sure, it always did as night came by, the temperature dropping from a hundred to the negatives in a couple hours sometimes. Not that Fiyero noticed, he was always infuriatingly warm.

He could tell the two chasing behind them were shouting something, probably threats, but the wind was deafening in his ears, hands gripping tight as they could. “Fiyero! A little help!”

“Ugh, fine.” Fiyero lifted one arm from where it was wrapped around Eliot’s waist, blowing a kiss back at the duo. Forming above the ring, a flaming heart flew back, catching its target, the one with clothes on, right on the cheek, searing in like a brand, sending him toppling off his horse, which tripped his brother up right behind him.

Well, looked like they were heading to Valoria a day early. And he was going to have find some new reservations. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a while guys...sorry about that. It's a bit of a long story but good news is I'm back for at least a while, so I hope you enjoy!


	5. Runaways

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Love, I promise you, I’ll be causing a _lot_ more pleasure than pain tonight to that cute little butt.”

Eliot suppressed a squeak from the hand slipping beneath him in the dewy dirt, pinching hard. “You wanna go, lover boy?”

“Bring it, baby boo. I’m gonna cuddle you so hard.”

The stars glittered above them, endless skies of inky black and lights bright enough to hurt if you stared too long. They were forever away from Haven, the closest Oasi, and more than a couple hundred miles out from La Vida, only town with enough electric lights to even _try_ and dull out natural high beams.

They were beautiful though. The night was beautiful. Eliot’s head in Fiyero’s lap as he braided and twirled the charcoal locks, Eliot’s eyes closed and shoulders down, in nothing but a ratty, oversized T-Shirt he’d stolen from his brother back in the Burrows, his last tie to home. Fiyero always asked why he didn’t just steal a new one since he hated even thinking about Brooklyn, about the family he left behind, when even the curt visits to the Burrows left him in a sour mood for months. Eliot never answered. Probably never would.

Twirling the third band on ring finger, he knew he didn’t have to.

“Two years, huh.” Eliot reached out, taking Fiyero’s free hand and twirling his own between the dips.

“You can’t say every day this month is our anniversary, love.” Fiyero giggled, leaning down, pecking his forehead.

Eliot rose a brow, using his other hand to cup Fiyero’s cheek while it was down. “Yeah, but there’s a lot from this month to chose as the ‘start date’.”

“You know what my favorite is.”

“It’s either sex or dancing.”

“Gasp, how shallow do you think I am!” Another laugh followed Eliot’s disbelieving look. “Sex was close, but, dancing.”

“That’s why we’re _supposed_ to be in La Vida.” Eliot nuzzled his stomach. “Assuming there’s a La Vida left to dance in.”

“I’m not an addict, love, I can behave myself-” Eliot’s unimpressed stare didn’t cease- “...alright, well, I’ll have you to keep me busy.”

“Eh, idle hands, the devil’s workshop, all that crap.” Eliot shifted in his lap, sitting up so he was straddling it instead.

Fiyero’s hands traced along his hips, down his sides, hot breath fanning over his cold neck. “I’ve got to pay the devil’s due.”

He was soft. A bit cold to the touch, but softer than anyone ever would assume Eliot was, with his sharp bones and brittle skin. Even his hands, worn down from countless hours on the reigns, were smooth and small in his own.

He was the only person allowed to think these things. Made him prouder than anything he’d ever done before that.

\--

_The place was, like, nice enough. Not super great, but fine. It was a total Alpha club, but, they let him along fine, since he was in proper dress and all. And no Alpha would pass up the opportunity to see a Deamorte in proper dress._

_“Want a sip, princess?” One of his guards, Renon, who really he was pretty sure was more of a danger than any wild Alpha robbers, held up the whiskey shot. But Fiyero, the proper omega he was, gently pushed the hand away._

_“Sorry, dear, I’m not supposed to have any unless my husband says it’s alright.”_

_"Well ya’ ain’t married yet, are ya’?” Renon threw an arm around his waist, pulling him into a kiss, all slime and hamburger grease. “A couple shotguns won’t do ya’ any harm.”_

_He wanted to throw up, finally yanking his head away. “Really, I’d rather not.”_

_“Come on,” one of the other guards, Aria, clapped him hard on the back, licking her lips. “If you’re not gonna do anything, may as well put us on a show, right?”_

_He really didn’t want to. But considering these people were his method of transport to Sol Baile, he’d have to keep them happy. Like always. Good, fun, Fiyero, giggling and standing up. “I don’t know…” He gave a smirk, moving into Aria’s lap instead, tracing a nail up her throat. “You Alphas think you can handle it?”_

_And so the whistles started. The cheers and barks that made his flesh crawl, which he forced into a pleasant blush, as Aria gripped his hips tight and thrust up against them. “You know it darlin’.”_

_Within seconds he found himself on the pole, trousers stripped to a pair of shorts that left nothing to the imagination. He was trained in this stuff, as all respectable Havener’s were, how to please a crowd with nothing more than his hips and a smile._

_Haven. Home. That was soon going to be stripped away, the little freedom he had left, the moment they arrived where they were heading for, where he was going to be wrapped in bondage and shoved into his- no, not his, as of next week when they arrive, nothing is_ his, _he wasn’t allowed his own property- latch-bed coffin._

_That, was when he came in._

_\--_

They weren’t a stranger to sand, hard to be out here. Even in the most tech-advanced Oasi, you got used to the layer of clay stained soot. They could get rid of it for the moment, do much more than throw down a haphazard towel, but, somehow it felt right. As the fire roared beside them, ashes fluttering in the wind around them in the utter silence of the desert dunes.

Nostalgia, he guessed.

Lying Eliot down, he kissed his forehead, then his lips and chest and stomach, as he keened and arched under his careful touch. Because he knew him better than anyone ever would. He’d counted every freckle on every fleck of skin, could map his dips and creases in the dark with nothing but his lashes. They worked in tandem, always, the perfect team of hot and cold, sour and sweet, fire and the brimstone that burns.

\--

_It wasn’t illegal as much as it was immoral._

_“You...you just....”_

_Okay, it was both._

_“Are you okay?”_

_He didn’t really care._ _He panted, crouched in front of Eliot, looking for even the slightest hint of pain in those doe eyes. “He didn’t- he didn’t get to you, did he?”_

 _“No, you…” Eliot looked down, eyes trapped on the perfect bullet hole right in the center his assaulters forehead. “You saved me. I’m trying to turn you in- why would you_ save _me_?”

“ _Because no one deserves that.”_

_Eliot stood. With a look Fiyero had never seen before. “Don’t ever save me again, you understand me? You’re cargo, nothing more.”_

_“Honey,” he smiled. “I’m just returning the favor.”_

_\--_

“God, _Fi._ ”

On the inside, Eliot was hot. Everything about him was cold everywhere else, all blacks and browns and freezing skin, but on the inside, he burned. Holding him to his chest, feeling strong hands grip his shoulders, thrusting his hips up towards his own, fire burned through him and he bit hard onto the slim shoulder beside him, pressing til he saw a mark he was confident no one could ever miss. No matter where they went, they’d mark each other.

Damn the consequences, or what everyone told them they could or couldn’t be, the people who said two omegas couldn’t do this, feel like this, they’d never felt love for a day in their miserable lives.

They’d never had to the plague of the west tug their hair and scream their name into the deafening silence of the Waste.

_\--_

_“You can’t just keep running forever,” Eliot told him, long after Fiyero had decided he’d make forever as long as he damn well pleased. “They’re going to find you eventually.”_

_“That’s what I got you here for, right, sweetheart?”_

_“Yeah, fat chance.” Eliot pumped the reins on Bambi’s neck, slowing her to a trot. “Don’t care how many tricks you pull, I’m turning you in.”_

_“Because that worked the past three times?”_

_Eliot rolled his eyes. “Not my fault you keep burning the trade-offs.”_

_“Then I guess you’ll just have to get used to me being around.”_

_Like_ that’d _ever happen.”_

_\--_

He was reaching euphoria, feeling his blood swell and lungs squeeze into dust as he pressed Eliot into the beat up blanket, the bits of dust on it’s slick surface bouncing with every thrust. He squeezed and panted, kissing Eliot with more passion than his entire home pretended it loved.

If it loved Passion, it would be here, support him, support this because the gods were here with them tonight, the phoenix was shielding them from the wind and light so the world would just be the man who saved him from losing the last embers of flame he had.

\--

_“You can’t be serious, Deamorte.”_

_“Dead,” he said, arms already around his waist and tugging him onto the dance ‘floor’ that was really an entire block of La Vida, decked out in neon lights and blowing confetti thick enough he couldn’t see more than the face right in front of him._

_“I don’t dance, especially not with you.”_

_Fiyero smiled, pulling him closer by the hips. “Try.”_

_Eliot rose a brow, but carefully moved his arms around his shoulders. “You really want to do this?”_

_“More than anything.”_

_“I’m from the Burrows, we don’t dance.” Eliot tried to follow the beat. Fiyero could only smile for the attempt, spinning him once and catching him when he stumbled over his own feet, his own dress brushing the floor as Eliot stared up at him._

_“You just haven’t had the right partner.”_

_\--_

Soon the two of them were lying, panting, all still under the summer sky, foreheads together and eyes shut, as Eliot let out a shaky breath. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know.”

Fiyero smiled. “Then we’ll burn hell together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll! Sorry for the long space between updates, it's been a bit of a crazy month, but I'm back!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Rosey here. I hope you all enjoyed it :) This is the first part of a hopefully long, long-running series. If you want more, please check out my Tumblr https://rosey-writes.tumblr.com/, as well as for any questions, suggestions, and more! Have a wonderful day/night, see you soon!


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